Moisturizer

The instructions on how to use the moisturizer I bought:



Method of using: Sooner or later after face, take just the right amount of even draw in the face, massage to the complete absorption lightly.

24

This is a quick rundown of what's happened to me in the past 24 hours:

• Taught my Monday morning classes
• Went with the Chinese teachers to another school where I was given a microphone, brought up in front of about 200-225 people to learn how to speak the local dialect of Chinese
• Showed off my mad ballroom dancing skillz in front of the same 200-225 people
• Got naked with a bunch of Chinese women in the swankiest and nicest bath house I've ever seen (technically also the only bath house I've ever seen)
• Was given a set of pyjamas to wear to the buffet in the bath house
• Took part in an impromptu photo shoot so the Chinese teachers would have pictures stored in their mobile phones to show their friends that they do, in fact, know a foreigner
• Played a card game that used 4 full decks of cards and lost miserably. The lost in translation thing was the main cause for my loss. I'm confident that if we could speak the same language I would have whupped all their asses
• Ate sugar cane. I think. Again with being lost in translation
• Hopped in a cab and met up with a foreigner who then introduced me to 14-15 other foreigners
• Hung out at the western bar until 3am
• Got a total of about 3 hours of sleep
• Had a pleasant chat with more foreigners in that elusive Starbucks
• Went to a DVD store owned by the Chinese mafia. I am certain that within the next few weeks I will have bought out the entire store and will have the most extensive personal collection of DVDs ever
• Was almost hit by a bus but was saved by a girl who had to have been only 15 or 16; and who shook her head in that way that all the Chinese do when they save foreigners from demon buses "tsk, silly, dumb foreigner"

They're Everywhere

I can state with absolute scientific certainty that mobile phones are an extra appendage that actually grow naturally on the Chinese people.

Seriously, everyone has one: people who have mere scraps of fabric for clothing because they can't afford anything else; people who live on farms in the middle of nowhere; the poor; the rich; the old; the young.

I went to a temple that was hundreds of years old and (understandably) found myself completely lost in thought. This place was huge and incredibly old and so majestic that I felt I was in another time period entirely. And I was - oh so ironically - brought back to reality by the ringing of the monk's phone.

Picture your classic bald, peaceful-looking monk in mangy brown robes whipping out a Razor cell phone. Yeah.

This father/daughter team are currently running a three-legged race. Yes, while he's on the phone. Can you say multi-tasking?

Cheap

Today I am going to waste your time by talking about my slippers.

Not really.

I am, however, going to post a picture of them and brag that they cost a little under $2CAD.

Haha! I can get super cheap Tweety Bird knock-off slippers! And yooou caaan't!

Well, I mean, unless you went shopping in China. Or someplace else equally cheap...

The Charred Remains of my Christmas Present

I just popped my one bag of popcorn in the microwave that's entirely in Chinese and has never been used.

And this is what happened...

Do Re Mi - Santa Style

Here are some more photos from the Christmas party, I just realized I never actually uploaded this post.

It was giving me a hard time, so if it didn't work, someone lemme know. Please and thank you

So I was at church today...

The Christmas spirit has done gone and bitten me in the ass.

At the risk of sounding like a sappy old Christmas special with the inevitable talking animals and dancing snowmen: Christmas can touch you no matter where you are.

It doesn't matter how many presents you get, how much snow is on the ground, how many people wish you a happy holidays, how big your tree is or how tight your shoes are. It's not the quantity of Christmas - no, no, my dear friends, it's the quality of Christmas.

Literally, for the past couple days, my life turned into a Christmas special. A really bizarre, non-traditional Christmas special.

Including the requisite Christmas miracle! Santa was nice and gave me two whole entire foreigners! And the two foreigners were nice and showed me where the Starbucks is. Naturally I walked past it like, 20 times on Sunday.

Because it was Christmas (and because the two foreigners knew one of the choir singers) we went to the one church in my area. Since it's the only church around it's got a lot of pressure to accommodate all the different sects of Christianity, so the church ended up looking like the mixed mutt of the family: a little bit Catholic, a little bit Protestant, and a little bit Gothic among others.

We only stayed for half an hour because it was all in Chinese and the singing didn't look like it was gonna start anytime soon. Naturally it did start once we left our seat and were almost out the door.

What's interesting is that no matter where I go in China, as a foreigner I'll always get seperate attention. When the three of us walked into that church people were scrambling over each other to get a good look at us, whipping out their cell phones, snapping pictures, really not even bothering to be discreet.

And even though the whole church was actually quite packed the ushers went to such great extremes as to get into the pews and push people out of the way just so we could have a spot in the front. We ended up sitting near the back though, it's a little less distracting that way.

This day is for Baby Jesus. Not us.

Ho! Ho! Ho!

I love it when I have to eat my own words.

The Christmas party turned out fantastic. It's not that I was expecting it to turn out awful, but I honestly didn't have high expectations, especially since I was the one organizing pretty much the whole thing.

Anyway, I'll post one picture today and maybe a few more tomorrow. I have lots of photos to share but I haven't sat down since 9:50 this morning. I'm pooped and going to bed.

Merry Christmas!

Yes, I did gain a little bit of weight. Ok, fine, a lot of weight. 58lbs. But it was for the role, ok!? I take my job very seriously!

The Most Elusive Starbucks Ever

I spent most of today in the city with one sole purpose: to find me a Starbucks. Not because I have a coffee addiction (ew, still think it's disgusting. Moving to the other side of the world will never change my mind on that), but because I've heard that Starbucks is a great place to go to meet the foreigners.

So I set off late this morning, paperback in my purse, plenty of time on my hands, totally prepared to spend a good 2-3 hours sitting, reading, drinking hot chocolate and making new foreign friends.

I honestly didn't really think it would be that hard. Think about it, in Canada you'd know if there was a Starbucks within a 5 block radius because you're bound to see people clutching their overpriced, extravagantly-named coffees the same way children hold their safety blankets. If not, at the very least you'll see Starbucks garbage strewn about the streets or near the garbage cans.

So I spent about 3 hours searching for the stupid place, and those stupid people with their stupid security blankets* before I finally gave up and decided to just aimlessly wander around the city.

It was while I was on the 7th floor of a department store that I noticed a Starbucks cup wedged in the garbage can. It was so pretty. I wanted to cry. That one little beacon of hope that was extinguished earlier suddenly started beaming again. Choir chorus: hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah.

I ran (not really) outside to figure out my next plan of action and in the process got lost in a scooter parking lot (it's not as easy as it sounds, ok?) and thus barely even noticed the foreigner! Once I reclaimed my surroundings, I decided that my next plan would be to catch up to the foreigner and make him be my friend.

I seriously stalked the guy for 4 blocks, through the underground path, through scooter parking lots, crossing streets, shoving little children and beggars out of my way and I was this close to catching up to him before I got hit by a car.

Ok, not really. The car was actually so close I'm pretty sure my jeans were touching the bumper though.

So in this distraction I lost him. Never to see him again. Except in my dreams.

I then proceeded to buy all this candy to help me wallow in self pity:

Not really, that's for my students for the Christmas celebrations.

I spent an hour and half trying to hail a cab to get me home though. It's unfortunate, my foreignness is a serious repellent. No one would pick me up because they didn't want to have to deal with the risk of having to communicate with a person who possibly doesn't speak Chinese.

It was really awful, I went around to coffee shops (not Starbucks, obviously) to get the waitresses to talk on my mobile with teachers from my school who told them how to get me home. And the waitresses had to hail the cab for me while I stood back so the driver wouldn't be scared off by my foreignness, and yet it still took an hour and a half.

I'm sure, some day - when I get my sense of humour back - I'll laugh at all of this, and think it makes a great story. But until then, I'm gonna start to physically make myself look Chinese.

* I mean no offense to the coffee drinkers of the world.

As requested

It was recently brought to my attention that I have yet to actually post pictures of my apartment. Apparently people wanna know what a dorm apartment at a school in China looks like. And since I aim to please, here ya go:






All these pictures were taken when I first got here, so the place now looks a little less threadbare. And by that I mean messier. But I do have a prettier duvet cover. Isn't that exciting?

Money, money, monaaaay

I haven't posted a picture in a while and I was feeling inspired and wealthy.

Isn't it pretty?

It's only about $260CAD. Not so impressive now, eh?

Oh my, what a "gentleman"

Today I had to decorate the Christmas tree for the party on Monday. By myself. Well, not really, a security guard from the front gate helped for about half an hour. He was sent to help out with the decorations that needed to be put up high. Of course they sent out a dude that was the same height as me. But I liked him. Especially because his ringtone was Backstreet's Back. How can you not like a guy with such supreme taste in music?

By the way, in response to the comment from Vics, I'm actually not in an area where they particularly celebrate Christmas. My school is doing this to teach the kids. Trust me, no one has any idea about Christmas. So I'm celebrating Christmas "Chinese-Style", which basically means traditional ideas have been turned inside out and upside down, and the whole thing is just really muddled to suit the greatest number of ideas quickest and cheapest.

The tree is fantabulous though. Super gawdy. Plastic and superglue everywhere.

Now not only do they have me playing Maria, but they've got me learning yet another dance. Well, not really. It's the same dance as the one I was (possibly) put on TV for, but now it's BIGGER, BETTER and TOTALLY IMPROVED! In actuality, they added about 70 steps so now everyone is too busy trying to copy the other couples to pay attention to their own partner. It's supposed to look like a ballroom dance.

And of course, because we don't have nearly enough men and because I'm one of the tallest girls (actually, I'm one of the tallest people. I'm definitely one of the top ten tallest people out of all the teachers and we probably have around 60 teachers in total.) I have to play the "gentleman" role.

This is unfortunate as I've just discovered - contrary to my own prior belief - I'm actually not the world's greatest dancer. And now, upon this discovery, I have to lead?

Busybusybusybusy

Oh man, where to start? Today has been one of those insanely busy days where it feels like it actually should have taken place over the span of a week.

But first off, HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO ME! Haha I've officially been away from Canada and in China for 2 months now. In a way, it feels like it's been waaaaay less than that - but on some days it feels like school should be over and summer vacation starting. However, I have an antidote for that! Unfortunately, I am not at liberty to discuss that yet.

So, I went dress shopping today.

Whaaaaat? Dress shopping!?

Well, I need a dress for the Christmas party. Apparently. Speaking of the Christmas party, it's been shrunk from a full day affair to approximately an hour and a half, and now takes place on Christmas Eve. At first I was supremely annoyed at this news, but only until I found out I'd have to wear a dress to it. Now I'm thrilled that it's only an hour.

My dress is blue and looks remarkably like my high school prom dress. And it's really poofy. I even have to wear one of those things around my waist that makes the bottom go really big. You know what I'm talking about? Either way, it's gonna be awkward as I don't know how to sit in it. And I have to dance in this stupid thing because I still haven't managed to get out of being Maria von Trapp. To top it all off, all I have for footwear are the old running shoes I brought with me. So picture me in a prom dress with a ratty old pair of Converse running shoes singing Do re mi.

I had a lovely conversation with the dress maker. She spoke entirely in Chinese and I spoke entirely in English - and yet, we managed. Maybe. I don't have any way of actually knowing for sure. But what I think I understood was that she owned the shop next door as well, they ordered in many of the dresses and made the rest themselves. She may have actually said, "I love ostriches". I, on the other hand, told her that I was cold, that I am from Canada and that her shop is really beautiful.

The fog cleared up, but not in time for when we went dress shopping. So I discovered on our trip to the shop that the way the Chinese drive in heavy fog, is by turning on their four way lights, honking incessently and driving exactly the same as they usually do.

After all of this, I was interviewed (sorta) and filmed at another school for an English lesson for their grade 6 classes. Mostly it was just me turning to the camera and saying encouraging things like, "wow!" "very good!" and "you're doing very well!" with thumbs up. All to the students who were not there and would not see the video until another day in class.

In conclusion: I'm going to bed, because I'm dead tired. Goodnight, all!

The Fog

Okay, I just have to tell you about the weather today. And not because there are awkward silences, or because there's nothing else to talk about, or because I'm Canadian and it's what we do, but because it was truly like nothing I've ever seen before. Which is saying a lot as I've lived in Canada for 20 years.

To start, I woke up and looked out the window this morning and couldn't see a single thing. It was the densest fog ever. I wanted to take a picture, but this is literally what it would have looked like:

Seriously, I couldn't see the grass on either side of the walkway. I couldn't see the six-storey building I needed to get to until I practically walked into the wall. I was nearly decapitated by a flag post that had bent out at an awkward angle across the walkway.

And of course, people were being insane and attempting to drive through this. What do you do when you can't see? You begin to rely on your other sense, hence why there was a steady soundtrack of car horns on my walk across campus. It was literally Marco Polo for cars.

I spent my lunch break in my room with the curtains drawn and when I opened them 45 minutes later, there was the sun, unexpectedly blinding me. The weird thing is, it looked like it was just the school grounds that had any sun. When I looked into the distance it was just that same fog.

And now, 5 hours later, it's beginning to get foggy again.

Reading this, you'd think I'd never seen fog before. But this was extreme fog.





Update: I just went for my normal evening walk. Usually I go for 6-12 laps around the track. Tonight when I started out, the fog was like a normal spring morning back home: still OK for driving conditions. After one and a half laps though, the fog began to get so thick I couldn't see more than 2 metres in front of me. I had to go in because I actually started feeling claustrophobic.

When I got to the sidewalk in front of my building, I could hear someone (or something) walking around, but I didn't see him until we were both standing directly underneath a lamp and about 4 feet away from each other. Of course, just to freak out my overactive imagination, this dude had his hood up and was wearing all dark clothes.

But the surreal thing is, when I looked up there was the moon and the stars, clearer than I'd ever seen them in China.

A tree in the fog, with the flash on. Taken about 1 metre away.

Update #2: There are currently fireworks going off just down the street - or I assume it's just down the street as it's incredibly loud. And even though these fireworks are going off within such a close proximity, I actually cannot see them. Anywhere. That's how foggy it is. And no, I have no clue why they're setting off fireworks on a random Wednesday at 9 o'clock at night when a person can't see 1 foot in front of them.

Dear Santa

What I want for Christmas:

The Belly Button Brush.

It's quality chrome!

It was designed and crafted by NASA!

It has the best sales pitch ever!

"Like a mini duster for your belly button, the Belly Button Brush gets into the nooks and crannies of your little dent!"

"So... this weather, eh?"

The Chinese do not know how to talk about the weather.

I'm your typical Canadian in that if there is a lull in the conversation between acquaintances - or if you end up squished really close to a stranger in the bus stop shelter - I just have to fill that silence with mindless chatter on the weather.

Before coming here, I had yet to meet a person that did not know the requisite dialogue on weather. This may be because every other person I talked to also lived in Canada. And after you've lived through the unpredictable weather of "The Great White North" for more than two weeks, the aforementioned dialogue magically becomes imprinted in your brain.

In China, the only reaction your commentary on the weather will garner is a nod, and occasionally a "yes" with that nod.

For instance,

Me - "I'm so glad it's warmed up a bit since yesterday, that was pretty cold, eh?" They nod

Me - "The rain here is really wet." They nod

Me - "So... how about this weather, eh? They nod I mean, this morning it was sunny..."
Chinese person nods once "Yes."
Me after waiting like, an hour for a more detailed response "And now... it's raining... wow." They nod

Me - "This weather is ridiculous, I hope it stops raining soon. I can't swim and I don't have my life jacket here. I may drown. And then you'll have to take all of my classes." They freakin' nod. What else?

If I had said any of that to a Canadian, we'd have had no more lulls or awkward silences and the conversation probably would have continued out of the bus shelter and onto the bus.

Bah, go figure.

ORTS - step 1

These were taken from my bathroom window. It's step 1 of "Operation Rebuild The School" as I've so adequately and creatively named it. If you'd rather, you can call it ORTS for short.

Creative Chocolate

I went shopping with one of my fellow teachers and her brother once. We stopped in at a little shop to make our very own chocolate characters.

And this was the result:

Trust me, they taste as... creative... as they look.

They insisted I make a little chocolate character that looked like myself. Apparently I look like this:

I wish I had my camera to take a picture of the shop. It looked like Cupid ate dynamite for breakfast. There were hearts and "I Love You" posters everywhere, and tiny booths all the better to squish people together. I found out that this is because in China, chocolate is typically and usually reserved for people in love.

Which would actually explain why I buy so much chocolate for myself.

Traditional Holiday Festivities

Back home in Canada,a snowstorm is expected, it's below freezing cold, there's only 9 days left until Christmas, and most people are currently sleeping.

Out here, it's pouring rain, it's slightly above freezing cold, there's only 9 days left until Christmas and a bunch of grown men are playing soccer on the school field.

My mind loves twisting itself around small differences like these.

Holler!

Happy birthday, wish I could be there to celebrate!

Ode To My Fridge

Hello, dear Refrigerator,
My blue and silver friend,
All brand spankin' new,
And here until the end.

I love your fashion style,
That deep and icy blue,
And that muted, pretty silver,
It's a sexy look for you.

It certainly is the truth,
It cannot be denied:
A relationship has begun,
A bond between you and I.

Several times a day,
Against my better thought,
I reach for your cool embrace.
It's a love that can't be bought.

But deep within your body,
You house a jar of fruit.
To open the lid so stubborn,
I need the strength of a brute.

I'm actually rather jealous,
I really have to say,
I hate that your fruity friend,
Gets time with you all day.

And so, my Energy-Wasting Pal,
All for the sake of you and I,
Some day I'll take that jar,
And hand it over to some macho guy.

And like that proverbial jar of pickles,
I'll leave it in his hands,
I'll let him take it from there,
To open that darn jar if he can.

Thus, with the exit of that fruit,
Amidst our love and laughter,
And all the way until July,
We'll live happily ever after.

Yee-Haw

I teach grade 7's on Friday mornings. At the ungodly hour of 7:40. When I walk into the first class my eyes are still puffy from sleep, and I'm sure on at least one occasion I've still had drool tracks inexplicably placed on my face. Actually, no, I take that back. I don't drool in my sleep. No, I really don't.

Anywho, the point I'm digressing from, is that I have complete free range when teaching these kids. I'm pretty much a guest lecturer and since I only see them for 40 minutes a week, I like to make it fun.

Tomorrow I'm going to start talking about the major events and things to do in Canada. Starting with the Calgary Stampede. I have no idea why I'm starting with an event I've never been to and actually know very little about, but I think it'll be fun. It'll be fun to look at the pretty pictures of the horses, anyway. And the pretty pictures of people being thrown 80 feet into the sky.

And then - because I love to make my students wonder if I'm on drugs - I'm going to teach them how to line dance. Except that I don't overly like country music. So I'm gonna teach them how to line dance to Lou Bega's Mambo No. 5.

This meant I had to spend the last 3 hours teaching myself how to line dance. Well, teaching myself and then perfecting it to an absolute T. Seriously, the next club I go to I'm requesting Mambo No. 5 and I'm totally gonna wow people.

Knob

I know some of you are gonna make fun of me, or call me weird, or wonder if I'm on drugs because of this - but seriously, is my doorknob not totally cool?

Yeah, I macro'd my doorknob. What of it?


(And I verbified macro - my awesomeness knows no bounds.)

This post is devoted to hair

Most specifically, this post is devoted to this hair:



What an absolute genuine work of art. I seriously spent the better half of a day trying to discreetly get a decent picture of this lady's hair.



One part beehive. Two parts whirlwind. A splash of orange zest. Perfection.



This picture does not do it justice.

Super Cookies!

I think that all cookie packages should come with a picture of a superhero:

No Water for the Thirsty

What we do in China when the city is going to shut the water off for two days:

.

.

.

Pissued

The translation of the "Search" or "Go" button on a Chinese search site:

to make seizure of

Do-re-mi

The Chinese version of Do-re-mi when the person (not me) teaching the students is tired:

Doe, a deer, a female deer,
Ray, a drop of golden sun,
Me, a name I call myself,
Far, a long, long way to run,
Sew, a noodle pulling thread,
La, a note to follow sew,
Tea, a drink with jam and bread.

Play-Along

It is possible that maybe on some deep, inner level I don't want my students to like me. This is evidenced by the fact that today I taught them Lamb Chop's Play-Along song.

This is the song that never ends,
It just goes on and on, my friends,
Some people started singing it,
Not knowing what it was,
And they’ll continue singing it forever just because
This is the song that never ends,
It just goes on and on, my friends,
Some people started singing it,
Not knowing what it was,
And they’ll continue singing it forever just because…

The Love

The Kitchen Staff have been watching me.

I know, technically, being the foreigner that I am, everyone watches me. But the Kitchen Staff really watch me.

I know this because yesterday for lunch they gave me a mountain of popcorn chicken. A mountain easily twice the size of anyone else's. I never told them that I love their popcorn chicken. But I do.

And now I love the Kitchen Staff.

Maria von Trapp?

I think the people at my school want me to develope a multiple personality disorder. So far, on Christmas day alone, they have cast me as "the Mastermind" "Santa Claus" "the DJ" and most significantly, "Maria von Trapp". Yes, one of Julie Andrews' most famous roles. On the surface I could choose to take this as a compliment - and if I could actually sing without making people's ears bleed, I would take it as such.

They don't understand me when I say that they really, really don't want to hear me sing. They think I'm just being modest. Or that I'm too shy (pfft, obviously not). I've told that them that even my Mother thinks I'm an awful singer. I figured that pulling the "mother card" would work, because I'm fairly certain that it's a universal thing for mothers to think their kids are perfect. But even the mother thing didn't faze them. They just smiled and said with all the wisdom and calmness of Yoda, "trust yourself".

I still don't know how I'm gonna get out of this.

I mean, I'm more than happy to cross-dress and play the fat and jolly Father Christmas, isn't that enough?!

Uncomfortable

Being sick sucks.

Being sick in a foreign country sucks.

But it sucks even more being sick in a foreign country where this is the toilet you have to use:

Bachelorette party?

Just because it's such a bothersome situation to me, I'd like to further emphasize my dismay at being unable to see my own blog. Writing this blog unable to view it, makes me feel the way I think I would feel if the following situation occured:

Let's say someone I'd never met before randomly called and asked me to throw a bachelorette party for their sister. Yes, I'm asking you to suspend belief and logic for a short moment. I know absolutely nothing about this family, the bachelorette, who she's marrying, the relatives, the friends, or the family dog (is it a pug, or a greyhound? I dunno). However, I can't refuse: money is money is money. And hello! A party is a party is a party!

That is, until I start to worry.

I worry that maybe the party I have in mind is not for everyone. The party I've been diligently planning involves multiple strippers, an up-and-coming, pimped out rapper, and invitations that ask, "Are you ready to RRRRumble?!" And it may be just a tad bit inappropriate for a religious, right-leaning, conservative family that named their standard poodle, "Princess FooFoo", and invited their granny expecting something a bit more along the lines of a British High Tea - where the tea was seeped for five minutes instead of three for that extra caffeinated jolt.

That's how I feel about this blog.

Spelling mistake? Where!?

Yesterday I briefly mentioned the fact that I cannot actually view my own blog.

This fact is annoying.

It's like when you have this brilliant thought and you just want to tell someone so you can be praised for your absolute intelligence, but in the time that it takes you to form the images of your brain into coherent sentences, you've gone and forgotten the brilliance of the original thought. So now this brilliant thought is just floating around in that corner of the universe where empty thoughts go. It's disappointing.

At this point, I don't even know what my blog looks like. You do. But I don't.

I first started it long enough ago to forget what colour scheme I chose. On top of which, I was in such a rush I wasn't paying particular attention. Ugh, if I spend 9 months out in China and go back to Canada to find my blog has been purple the entire time, I'll most likely cry. It's not that I greatly dislike purple, nor do I have anything against the people who actually do like the colour, it's just that it completely and totally clashes with me and my personality. It'd just feel like a grand misrepresentation of myself and the time spent here to discover I've been expressing myself in that colour.

I promise I'm not devoting this whole blog to the colour purple and my inherent dislike of it.

Instead, I shall explain the meaning behind "Pissue Paper" as a title. No, it is not misspelled. At least, not on my behalf. In China it's quite common for English translations to be grammatically incorrect and for the spelling to be hilariously off. I actually saw a package of tissue paper labelled as Pissue Paper. And I laughed. I mean, it was really shockingly funny to me.

In hindsight I was thinking Pissue Paper might actually be a brand name, at which point, this entire blog page is probably infringing on copyright laws or something. I didn't find anything in my very thorough search of the first page of results on google, so I'm going to assume it's a spelling mistake. If it's not, and I really am infringing on laws, I'd like to offer my sincere apologies to the people of Pissue Paper. If you leave a comment following this entry I shall take special care to read it and respond accordingly as soon as I am able to actually view my page. You shall hear a response from me in 8-9 months.

Having been speaking the English language my entire life and appreciating the difficult and nonsensical rules that apply, I quite often get amusement from some of the blatant butchering I see/hear on a daily basis out here. Thus, I feel I ought to share some of my favourites with the cyber world.

Although, in reality, I'll probably forget the original point and just ramble about something stupid. Like the fact that the clock in my room inexplicably gets louder every 51st second of every minute for exactly 16 seconds.

Well, alright then

So I totally just posted an entry about 2 minutes ago, only to discover that I actually cannot view my blog...

Censorship sucks.